


i was your little life raft

by sleeponrooftops



Series: lifeboats [1]
Category: The Almighty Johnsons
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Gen, Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-06
Updated: 2013-04-06
Packaged: 2017-12-07 15:21:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/750025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleeponrooftops/pseuds/sleeponrooftops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Anders is four, Mike is terrified of the damage he’s done, and Ty understands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i was your little life raft

They’ve been waiting a half hour before Mike sighs and says, “Call your brother.  I don’t have time for this.”

 

Ty levels him with a glare even as he fishes out his phone and listens to it ring until the other line picks up and there’s a soft, childish giggle.  “Hello?” a tiny voice asks.

 

Ty rolls his eyes and turns to Mike, “He’s wasted.”

 

“Hel- _lo_!  Who is this?”

 

“Really, Anders?” Ty snaps, “It’s _ten thirty_ , and you’re drunk.  Fucking ridiculous.”

 

Ty goes to hang up when he hears, “You _swore_!”  There’s that giggle again, and Ty frowns.  He knows that voice—it’s not quite Anders, but something of a distant memory.

 

“Anders,” he says slowly, “ _Are_ you drunk?”

 

Mike starts to bitch, so Ty waves a hand at him, frowning.  “Mikey says getting drunked is for big peoples, not me!” Anders sings, and Ty’s jaw drops.

 

“Mike,” he says, wide-eyed, “Talk to him.  Tell me I’m not crazy.”

 

Mike takes the phone suspiciously and puts it to his ear, asking, “Anders?  Is everything alright?”

 

“Mikey,” a wobbly voice comes down the line, “I don’t know where I am.  I think I’m lost.  Don’t be mad, okay?”

 

Mike feels his breath catch, and he sinks into one of the barstools, disbelieving.  He never thought he’d heard that voice again, never thought he’d feel this urge—one he so desperately tried to stamp out as his brothers got older, _especially_ Anders, gods, it had always hurt so much to turn him away, even despite everything—this urge to pull his brother into a hug and protect him from the world.  He takes a slow breath and then says, his voice soothing and low, “Hey Ands, I’m not mad, promise.  Where are you right now?”

 

“I don’t know!” Anders cries, his voice pitching dangerously close to a sob.

 

“Hey, it’s okay.  Calm down.  What’s around you?”

 

“I’m on a bed, and it’s really comfy, and—” he breaks off, and there’s the sound of sheets scraping over the phone, a thud followed by bare feet slapping against the ground, and then Anders is back, “ _Fishies_!”

 

“Let’s go,” Mike says, getting up.  Ty hauls Axl up when he tries to object, and Olaf trails after them as the goddesses watch on, a mixture of curiosity and indifference.  They head out of the bar as Mike returns to Anders and says, “I’m on my way over, okay, bug?”  The old nickname makes him smile, remembering how Anders used to squirm whenever their mum called him it, giggling, and how Mike had just picked it up.  “Stay with the fishies,” he adds before hanging up.

 

He slides behind the wheel and waits while everyone else piles in, and then they’re off, silent until Ty asks, “Mike—was that really him?”

 

Mike sighs, “Even before mum left, she was never really there.  I had to raise him as best as I could, and I will _never_ forget his voice back then.  As far as I can tell, Anders has _somehow_ been transformed into a child.”

 

“ _Oh_ ,” Olaf says, brightening, “I’ve heard of this enchantment before.  It cannot be reversed or broken, but _solved_.”

 

“Are you saying there’s a reason Anders is a child, and the only way to turn him back is to figure out why?” Ty asks.

 

When Olaf nods, there’s a collective groan from Ty and Axl.  When Mike doesn’t add his frustration, Ty looks over from the passenger seat.  “Hey,” he says as Axl starts asking questions of Olaf, “Everything good?”

 

“It’s my fault Anders is the way he is,” Mike says softly, and Ty’s shocked into silence at the admission, but Mike plunges on, “I may have been there when he was little, but, when I turned twenty-one, I was gone, leaving a seventeen-year-old with you and Axl, when you were only twelve and five.  He needed someone, and mum and I weren’t there.  I’m—I’m scared, Ty.  He sounds four, maybe five.  I was still there then.”

 

“You’re afraid of what he’s going to expect of you.”

 

“Yeah, I guess.”

 

“Who knows, maybe he’ll still be thirty-three and an arsehole on the inside.”  Mike laughs lightly, but he knows what he’s going to find at Anders’ flat, and it terrifies him.

 

\--

 

Ty lets them in with his drunk key, and they’re silent as they climb the stairs and slowly step inside the flat.  Ty peeks around to the fish, but there’s no tiny Anders there.  “Fridge,” Olaf says, pointing to the open fridge door, and they slowly move toward the island, crowding around it as Mike steps around the door.

 

“Oh my God,” Ty gasps as Axl makes a noise of disbelief.

 

Anders turns at the noise, stumbling over his little feet, and Mike catches him before he falls, scooping him up in his arms.  “Hey, little man,” Mike says as he turns and sets Anders down on the island.

 

“Mikey!” Anders squeaks, lunging forward to cling to him in a tight hug.  Mike can’t help the laugh his high voice brings out, and he pulls away to look him over.

 

Even when he was growing, Anders was small, always being looked down at and picked on for his short size.  Mike remembers four well, _barely_ three feet tall, with his beautiful blue eyes and soft blonde hair, curling around his temples and the nape of his neck, his freckles so much more prominent, all over his face and neck, and his hands—Mike remembers those most of all, so tiny he was always so afraid of them getting hurt, especially after the dryer incident.  He takes Anders’ right hand in his own and looks down at his knuckles, and the faint scar is there.  “It’s him,” he says, and his brothers shake their heads in shock.

 

Anders looks back at them, and Mike smiles when he grabs blindly at him, trying to pull himself away from the strangers.  Olaf laughs when Anders hides his face in Mike’s shirt, little fists bunched in his jacket.  “I remember this,” Olaf says, smiling, “So talkative, but so shy.”

 

Olaf goes around to peek over Mike’s shoulder as Axl snorts and says, “Anders—shy?  No way.”

 

“Yeah,” Ty says softly, gaze fixed on his tiny brother, “Until Mike left, he hated people noticing him.  Hey, does he have the broom scar?  That was later, so we might be able to tell how much of Anders is in there.”

 

Mike checks behind his left ear and nods.  “He got that when he was seven, though.  There’s no telling how much— _oh_.”

 

“What?” Ty asks, looking up to Mike, who carefully pulls down the shoulder of the oversized t-shirt Anders is wearing, revealing his right shoulder, which has a wicked scar curving around the joint.  “What was that, twenty-eight?”

 

“Yeah,” Mike says softly, tracing the scar, and he finds he has to swallow past a lump in his throat as he remembers that night, remembers how he’d thought it was all over, his baby brother—because he’d always seen Anders as the baby, and he figures that’s because he’s always been the closest to him, regardless—gone from him forever.

 

“What was twenty-eight?” Axl asks, and Mike just shakes his head.

 

“He was attacked outside of a nightclub, and they called us from the hospital.  You were—sixteen, I think.”

 

“You guys told me he fell down his stairs when he was wasted and broke his leg!” Axl exclaims, turning on Ty, “Did you think I wouldn’t be able to handle it?”

 

“Humans are drawn to us, Axl,” Ty says softly, “And sometimes not in a good way.  It wasn’t the first time it happened to him, and I don’t think the last.”

 

“There was last year,” Mike says, pulling back from Anders to check his collarbone, where another scar lies, jagged across the top of his chest.

 

“So, he’s just shrunk down, then, and in the mindset of a four-year-old, but he’s all still there,” Ty says, shrugging, and then they’re all captivated as Anders suddenly giggles, finally spotting Olaf.

 

Mike looks down at him, stepping away, and he taps Anders on the nose, who scrunches up his face.  “Why were you in the fridge?” he asks, and Anders grins.

 

“I was hungry!” he exclaims, “Can I have a grilled cheese, _please_?”

 

“Course.  First, though, you have to meet your brothers.”  Anders looks over his shoulder dubiously, and Ty sees some kind of recognition flicker in his eyes when Anders looks at him.  “That’s Ty,” Mike introduces, “And Axl.  Why don’t you play with them while I talk to grandpa, okay?”

 

“Okay,” Anders says softly, and it’s a moment before he clambers to his feet and pads over to Ty.  “Can you help me down?” he asks, holding out his arms.

 

Ty blinks, suddenly overwhelmed by how damn _adorable_ toddler Anders is, before he says, “Yeah, sure.  C’mon.”  He carefully lifts Anders into his arms, tucking the t-shirt around his legs as he does.

 

Mike waits until he and Axl have gone over to the sofa before he turns to Olaf.  “See if you can find tomato soup.  Water, not milk.  _Don’t_ burn the grilled cheese.  He was very picky after we found out about his food allergies, so he was always weird about eating.  I’m going to get him some clothes if this is going to last a while.  I won’t be long.”  He doesn’t wait for Olaf to respond before he’s heading out, and he tries not to think about the way Anders watches him leave, a flash of uncertainty passing over his face.

 

\--

 

When he returns with groceries and a bag from the thrift store, the flat is empty but for Axl sitting on the sofa, hands over his eyes, and counting.  He finishes counting and looks over as Mike is putting away the shopping, and Mike starts to say something, but then Axl is gone, thundering through the house with a big, booming voice, “Come out, come out, wherever you are!”

 

Mike smiles and goes back to putting away the shopping, thinking about playing hide-and-seek with Anders and Ty when they were still little, how they used to hide together and giggle incessantly.  He’s just finishing when Axl comes charging back into the living room, Anders chasing after him, his little feet slapping noisily against the ground.  “Mike!” he exclaims when he sees him and changes route to run over to Mike, who swoops him into the air and settles him against his hip.

 

“I got you some clothes,” he says, taking the bags in his free hand, “How about we get you changed and then go meet everyone down at the bar?”

 

“Everyone?” Anders asks, sinking in against Mike and curling one hand around the collar of his jacket.

 

“They’re nice, I promise.”

 

“Okay, I guess.”

 

They pass Ty in the hallway, Olaf is asleep on the bed, and so Mike takes Anders into the bathroom and helps him change into a pair of jeans, a blue and green flannel, and little black and white Converse.  He sets Anders to brushing his teeth while he hunts around for a comb, and he returns to find Anders looking up at the tall sink with a frown.  Mike laughs and picks him up so he can spit and wash out his mouth before he sets him down and combs through his hair, though that really only makes the curls more noticeable.

 

When he’s finished, he lifts Anders into his arms again, settling him against his hip, and he wakes Olaf with a smack to the shin, to which Anders giggles and sticks his tongue out when Olaf awakens with a grunt.  Olaf starts making faces at Anders as Mike walks out, and Mike just rolls his eyes and goes to get Ty and Axl, who are flopped on the sofa, chatting lightly.

 

Ty jumps up and holds out his hands, and Anders leans back into Mike, laying his cheek against Mike’s shoulder and peering out at Ty.  “Just for a little bit, okay?  I’ve gotta drive,” Mike says, shifting Anders over to Ty.  Anders settles stiffly against Ty, looking at Mike with a wobbly lower lip, and Mike sighs, reaching over to ruffle his curls.  “Be good,” he says, and Anders nods after a moment, sinking into Ty and getting comfortable.

 

He gets buckled in the back, squashed between Axl and Ty, who can’t seem to stop looking at him, and Olaf crashes into the front, falling into a light doze on the way back to the bar.  Ty helps Anders out onto the sidewalk, and he waits there until Mike comes around, offering a hand.  Anders reaches up, his little fingers holding onto Mike’s big ones, and they head into the bar like this.

 

It doesn’t happen at once, everyone too busy watching the brothers file back in, no sign of Anders, until Ingrid gasps and hops off her stool, going over to kneel in front of Anders, who immediately drops Mike’s hand and instead hides behind his leg, peeking around at Ingrid.

 

“What the hell is that?” Michele says, turning and glaring at Mike’s leg.

 

“It’s Anders,” Ingrid says softly, holding out a hand, “I’m grandpa’s friend.”

 

“Are you way cool like he is, too?” Anders asks quietly, and Mike looks down at him in shock before up at Olaf, who has paused behind the bar and is looking at Mike with a deer-in-the-headlights expression.

 

“You _told_ him?” he demands.

 

“Way cooler,” Ingrid says, and Anders steps out from behind Mike, holding her gaze with a stern expression on his face.

 

“Okay,” he says after a moment, shrugging, and Ingrid lifts her hand for a high-five.

 

“I didn’t mean to tell him,” Olaf says, reaching for a glass, “He kept pestering me about why I didn’t look like other grandpas, and we got to talking, and he might have found out.”

 

“How old was he?”

 

“Nine, I believe.”

 

“That’s _Anders_?” Michele says, still staring at him.

 

“Yes, Michele, it’s Anders,” Ty says with a roll of his eyes, and there’s a long moment of silence as she, Stacey, Gaia, and Zeb look at Anders before shrugging and turning back to the bar, though a look of extreme relief on Gaia’s face makes Mike frown.

 

“Are you not—drawn to him?” Mike asks slowly, and Gaia shakes her head.

 

“Apparently not.  Does this mean we get to have this conversation another day?” she asks hopefully.

 

“No, it just means it will be less difficult, though I think we should take this upstairs.  Come on, bug.”

 

Anders turns, lifting his arms, and Mike scoops him up, heading for the stairs, though he doesn’t miss the strange look on Michele’s face, and he knows how this must look, this ease and familiarity he has with such a young child.

 

When they get settled upstairs, Anders on the sofa with Ty and Olaf on either side of him, Axl, Gaia, and Zeb perched on the bed, and the girls standing together, looking at Anders curiously, Mike turns to them all and says, “Okay, so Anders is four, but he’s also thirty-three and, as far as we can tell, nine.”

 

“Because that’s not confusing at all,” Michele says, crossing her arms over her chest.

 

Mike throws her a small glare before continuing, “I’m saying four because of how he looks and is acting, as well as his height, but he has all the scars of his body at thirty-three, and a memory from when he was nine.”

 

“Maybe he has all his memories?” Ty suggests, looking down as Anders leans against him, head resting against his arm as his blue eyes wander around the room, taking everything in.  “It should be easy enough to check.  We can just ask him questions and figure it out.  Maybe that will help us figure out how to get him back to normal?”

 

“Wait, we can’t just fix this with magic or something?” Michele asks.

 

“No,” Ingrid says, squinting at Anders a little, “Olaf, is this— _that_ enchantment?”

 

“I believe so.  I’m not sure how to break it, though.  It varies from person to person.”

 

“What do you mean?” Mike asks.

 

“Well, the enchantment is different depending on who it happens to, but, usually, to change the person back, something has to be acknowledged or learned by those around the person.  So, in this case, I would assume it’s up to his brothers to figure out why he’s been turned into a child.  It may be a lesson he needs to learn, or even one you three need to learn.”

 

“Like a moral of the story?” Axl says, looking dubious, “That sounds a little _too_ fairytale, even for us.”

 

“Because it’s _old_ magic,” Ingrid says quietly, still looking at toddler Anders, “Sometimes, this enchantment occurs simply from the earth and not even from a caster, so there’s no real way of knowing if we can find a caster to reverse it, and I doubt he or she even would.”

 

“Are you trying to say that the _earth_ is trying to teach us a lesson?” Ty asks, looking between Olaf and Ingrid, “Are you actually serious?”

 

Olaf just shrugs and turns to Anders, who giggles when Olaf tries to tickle him.  “Stop!” he cries, squirming away and batting at Olaf.

 

“Okay, well,” Mike says, letting out a breath, “Might as well figure out how old his memories are.  In the meantime, we should look for a caster, just in case.  Ladies, would you like to do the honor?  Axl, Ty, and I can work on the memories.  Olaf, Ingrid, maybe you can find out the differences between caster enchantments and earth ones, see if there’s a way to reverse an earth one.  Gaia, Zeb, uh—you’re free to do whatever.”

 

Everyone disperses, though Gaia and Zeb decide to stick around, and Mike takes Olaf’s empty seat, Axl coming over to sit on the coffee table.  “Hey bug,” Mike says, carding a hand through Anders’ curls, “Mind if your brothers and I ask you a few questions?”

 

“Okay,” he says with a small shrug, pushing off Ty and sitting straight.  He looks up at Mike expectantly, and Mike just smiles before beginning.  They spend at least an hour going through memories, but, in the end, he doesn’t seem to remember anything past ten, and so they drift off into other conversation until Anders huffs and says, “I’m bored.”  They all look over, seemingly having forgotten Anders is still only four, and they all just stare at him until Anders pouts and says, “Can we go to the park?”

 

“I’ll take him,” Axl says, already standing, and Anders looks up excitedly, clapping his hands together.

 

“Are you sure?” Mike asks, standing, as well, and Axl rolls his eyes, bending down to lift Anders in his arms and settle him on his hip.

 

“I can handle a four-year-old, Mike, I’m not incompetent.”

 

Mike frowns, but says, “His jacket’s in the car.  It’s cold out, you have to wear it,” he says when Anders opens his mouth to complain, “Are you okay if Axl takes you?”

  
“Are you coming?”

 

“I have to stay here, is that okay?”

 

“I guess so,” Anders mumbles, leaning in against Axl.

 

“Alright, be good.  Listen to Axl.”

 

“Okay, Mikey.”

 

Axl waves to Gaia and Zeb, and they follow him from the room, Anders waving goodbye to Mike and Ty as they leave.  Once settled in the car, Axl heads out with Gaia in the passenger seat and Zeb talking animatedly with Anders in the back.  “So—nothing?” Axl asks, and Gaia shakes her head.

 

“I think it’s relieving.  I’m not really sure because I don’t really have control over myself when he’s nearby, but, I mean—I feel good, not having to think about him every second.  He’s so adorable right now, though.  It’s so weird.”

 

“I know, I actually like him,” Axl says with a soft laugh.

 

At the park, Axl comes around to help Anders into his black jacket, zipping it up before lifting him in his arms and setting him down on the sidewalk.  He locks up the car, and then heads for the park, smiling when Anders hurries to catch up.  “You’re really tall,” he says as they’re walking.

 

“I’m tall even when you’re big.  You’re always the little guy, now you’re just cute, too.”  There are a handful of kids at the park, their parents scattered about benches, and Anders walks a little closer to Axl, one hand curling around the fabric of his jeans.  Axl looks down at him in surprise, still baffled by the idea of a shy Anders.  When they reach the edge of the park, Axl stops and kneels, tapping Anders on the nose and saying, “Wanna go on the swings?  I’ll push you.”

 

“Okay!” Anders shrieks, already taking off in the direction of the swings.

 

They spend nearly half an hour on the swings before Anders finally gets up enough courage to go into the playground, and Axl sits with Gaia and Zeb, watching him.  After a while, they get caught up in a conversation, not really paying attention, until a tiny cry shatters through the park, and Axl looks over, frowning.  “Shit,” he says, jumping up from the bench and running over to where Anders is struggling up from the ground, on the verge of tears.  A boy on a higher ledge sticks his tongue out and makes a rude gesture at Anders, and Axl just gapes at him before he kneels and reaches for his brother.

 

“Brian!” a woman’s voice screeches shrilly, and the boy on the ledge is suddenly wide-eyed.

 

“Hell, Anders,” Axl mumbles when he finally gets his brother to his feet and sees his bloody nose.

 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” the woman says as she reaches them, “Here, I have some tissues.”  She digs through her purse and pulls out a travel pack, handing it over.

 

“Thank you,” Axl says, taking them and pulling out a few to hold against Anders’ nose.  “Hey,” he coos when Anders starts crying, his big blue eyes huge and sad, “Come here.”  Anders steps into the circle of his arms, and Axl lifts his hand to his nose, saying, “Just keep your hand there.  It’ll be okay.”

 

“I’m so sorry,” the woman says again, “I can’t believe Brian would do that.  Get over here!”

 

“It’s alright, really,” Axl says, standing with Anders in his arms and handing back her tissues.  Before she can respond, Axl heads off, rubbing a hand over Anders’ back as his brother buries his face in Axl’s shoulder and sobs.  His chest aches at the sound, and he holds Anders closer, whispering to him without really knowing what he’s saying, just wanting to make him feel better.  “We’re leaving,” he says to Gaia and Zeb as he walks past them, and they hurry to follow, Gaia coming around to look at Anders worriedly.

 

Gaia drives back to the bar, Axl in the passenger seat with Anders curled up in his lap.  He settles down relatively quickly, and his nose stops bleeding as he’s just sniffling.  By the time they reach the bar, he’s got his thumb in his mouth and is fading fast.  “You’re back early,” Mike says as they enter, but then Ty’s standing, and Mike’s frowning, “What happened?”

 

“Some shithead punched him in the face and pushed him off the playground,” Axl says even as Anders stirs at Mike’s voice, tears building in his eyes as he turns.

 

“Mikey,” he mumbles, reaching out his arms, tears spilling over.  Mike hurries around the bar and takes Anders from Axl, tucking him away and rubbing his back.

 

“What happened, Ands?”

 

“He—he hitted me, and then he pushed me, and then my nose was bleeding, and Axl took me home, and I’m—I’m—I’m _tired_ ,” he ends on a huge yawn, and Mike smiles lightly, giving him a little squeeze before turning for the stairs.

 

“Why don’t we get you settled down for a nap, and I’ll wake you up for dinner later?”

 

“Okay,” Anders says softly, bringing his thumb back up to pop in his mouth.  Mike carries him upstairs, blocking out the sound of Axl’s voice as he talks to Ty.  Ingrid, Stacey, and Michele are upstairs when he enters, and they all make noises at the sight of Anders.

 

“Isn’t he just the cutest?” Stacey coos, getting up, but Mike shakes his head.

 

“He needs to go down for a nap,” he says, carrying him over to the bed, “He got into a little fight at the park.”  He settles Anders on the bed, undoes his Converse and slides off his jacket, and then tucks him in under the blankets, smiling as Anders turns on his side and yawns around his thumb, blue eyes closing.  He stays there for a few minutes, just running his fingers through Anders’ blonde hair before Michele clears her throat.  “Right,” he says, standing and leading the way out of the room and back downstairs.

 

They spend the rest of the afternoon hanging about, coming and going as they please, and it’s not until six o’clock that Anders wakes up and slowly makes his way downstairs, rubbing his eyes.  They’ve all but forgotten about him, and Mike turns in surprise at his tiny voice, “I’m hungry.  Is it dinnertime yet?”

 

“We should go out,” Axl says, already pulling out his phone, “I’ll call Ty.”

 

“Axl,” Mike starts to say and then stops because he honestly can’t remember the last time they all went  out together, the four of them, no strings attached, not for a thing, not because they had to, just because they wanted to, and he shrugs after a moment, letting Axl ring Ty.  He turns back to Anders, who is sitting on the steps, legs through the railing, and looking down at Mike.  “Wanna go out for dinner?”

 

“Okay!” Anders exclaims, brightening.

 

“Go get your shoes and jacket, then, and bring them down here, and we’ll leave.”  He clambers up and makes his way back upstairs, and, by the time he’s gotten back downstairs and Mike’s got him all done up and ready, Ty is arriving back at the bar.  They pile into his car, Anders babbling the whole way, and they’re all in an excellent mood when they reach the restaurant, talking and laughing like they haven’t in _years_.

 

Dinner ends up being the most enjoyable experience Mike can remember having in a damn long time, and they spend most of it entertaining Anders and listening to him tell stories.  When they eventually pay the bill and head back out to the car, Anders on Mike’s hip, Ty asks, “So, where is he sleeping tonight?”

 

“My fishies!” Anders cries suddenly, straightening, “I never feeded my fishies!”

 

“Your fishies will be fine,” Mike tries to say, but Anders is having none of that.

 

He beats a fist on Mike’s chest and exclaims, “No!  I have to feed my fishies!  I want to go _home_!”

 

Mike sighs and stops outside of Ty’s car.  “Anders, you have to come back with me, okay?  You can’t go home alone.”

 

“I want to go home!” he cries, lower lip trembling, “I have to feed my fishies, and I want to go _home_.”

 

“Anders—”

 

“I’ll go with him,” Ty says before he can continue, “I don’t mind staying over.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Yeah, it’s fine.  C’mon, I’ll drop you guys at the bar.”  Anders nearly falls asleep on the way back, continuously nodding off and always shaking himself awake, and Mike laughs at him, recognizing his stubbornness.  He figures that, in toddler Anders’ mind, if he falls asleep, he won’t go home, and he’ll do anything to get his way.

 

Ty leaves his brothers at the bar and takes Anders back to his flat where Anders demands they feed the fish before bedtime, and Ty gets a chair for him to stand on before he helps him.  When he’s done, he picks Anders up, puts the chair away, and carries him into the bedroom.  “You know,” he says as he sets Anders down on the bed and kneels before him to take off his shoes, “I don’t think Mike realizes it, and I don’t know if he ever will, but you’re not half bad.”  Anders cocks his head at him, blank faced, and Ty laughs softly, shrugging.  “I know you don’t really understand, but you’re kind of mean to us usually.”

 

“I am?” Anders asks, looking sad.

 

Ty shrugs again, dropping the shoes onto the ground and sitting on the bed.  He takes off his jacket as he continues, “I mean, I can see through it.  I know who you are, _really_ , but Mike just sees the Bragi façade and thinks you’re all hot shit all the time, but you’re—I dunno, I guess you’re different with me sometimes.  Maybe it’s cos we’re closer in age or something, or we grew up really close, but you don’t really treat me like you treat Mike and Axl.  And I guess that’s why Mike will never really understand, but—” Ty breaks off, sighing.

 

He looks up when Anders’ small hands reach for one of his big ones, holding it tightly.  “I’m sorry I’m mean, Ty.”

 

“You’re just—scared,” he settles on, blinking.  It all slides together, and he takes his hand back so that he can stand and help Anders undress the rest of the way.  He gets him a shirt that’s _way_ too big, but he looks adorable clambering up the bed on it, and Ty tucks him in, sitting next to him as Anders hunkers down and yawns.  “You’re scared that we’ll think you’re weak, or that you won’t be good enough, so you put up the Bragi façade and pretend like you don’t give a shit, and it comes off as you being an arse, and Mike just can’t see through all your crap.  Who knows, maybe one day.  Maybe you’ll remember this, and you’ll be better.”

 

He falls quiet after that, just sitting there, until Anders shifts, and he gets off the bed, starting to leave until Anders’ soft voice calls to him, “Ty?  Can you stay in here?”

 

After a moment, Ty smiles and says, “Yeah, okay.”  He strips down to his boxers, steals one of Anders’ shirts, and climbs into bed with him.  Anders immediately scoots over and curls against him, and Ty just tucks him away and settles into sleep.

 

\--

 

Anders wakes up squinting against the sunlight pouring into his room, the weight of a body pressing around him.  He frowns and looks behind him, nearly jumping out of the bed when he sees Ty behind him, sound asleep, but he stops, forcing himself to calm down as he thinks back on yesterday.  It all comes flooding back, and his frown deepens.

 

He carefully extracts himself from Ty, grabs a pair of sweats on his way out of the room, and heads out into his flat.  He feeds the fish before looking for his phone, and he pours cereal while he waits for his older brother to pick up.  “Ty?” Mike’s voice comes groggy down the other line.

 

“No, Anders,” he says, and he can hear Mike’s sharp inhale before there’s a rustling of sheets, Michele’s voice, and then movement as Mike walks.

 

“You’re back to you,” Mike says.

 

“Yeah, looks like it.”

 

“What happened?  Did Ty figure something out?  Are you okay?”

 

“Mike, I—” he breaks off, taking his cereal to the island and sitting, chewing on his lip.  He can remember it all, playing hide and seek with Ty and Axl, Mike carrying him around, Axl taking him to the park, _laughing_ with his brothers in a restaurant, and Ty last night, just talking.  “Mike, I’m sorry,” it tumbles out of him, and he can practically hear Mike’s confusion.

 

“What?” Mike says finally, and Anders sighs, poking at his cereal.

 

“I’m a shit brother, okay, and so are you, and it really sucks, and I’m sorry.”

 

Mike’s quiet for a long time, and Anders starts eating his breakfast.  Eventually, Mike says, “You’re not a shit brother, Ands.  I mean—you are, but you aren’t.  You’re family, and I’m always going to love you, no matter how much of an arsehole you are.  I just—I’m sorry, too.  I really am.  I never listen to you, and I’m always too hard on you, and I just need to—I need to be a big brother instead of a father.  I need to respect you.”

 

“Sap,” Anders teases, and Mike laughs softly.  “Me too, though,” Anders continues, “I need to be a better brother, and I need to help you out more, and I guess I was just afraid of disappointing you.”

 

“You should never have had to worry about that, Anders.  Listen—why don’t you come over to the bar, and we’ll talk, yeah?  I’ll ring Axl.  We’ll have a thing.”

 

“Okay.  I’ll wake Ty.  Hey—Mike.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Cheers—for looking after me when I was, you know, _four_.  I’m lucky to have you.”

  
“Alright, this is getting ridiculous now.  See you in a bit,” he says before hanging up.

 

Anders does the same, smiling to himself as he sets his phone down and turns back to his cereal.  Ty comes in a few minutes later and sits across from him with a bowl of cereal.  He holds Anders’ gaze for a few seconds before asking, “How much do you remember?”

 

Anders smiles fondly and says, “I seem to recall you being an amazing brother, along with a cuddle whore.”

 

“Arse,” Ty grumbles, but he’s grinning, and so Anders grabs them orange juice and strikes up a conversation over breakfast.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I started this and my other Anders fic around the same time, but I finished the other one first and then felt so bad about how much I destroyed him in that that I needed to finish this and get it posted. This was a lot of fun to write, and I actually originally had more planned for before Anders got changed back, but I didn’t really feel like it, especially with that bit Ty said. This story is really cheesy, too, I know, and more out of character than the other one, but I had fun, and I hope you guys enjoyed it, as well. Don’t forget to leave your thoughts!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Brothers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2568956) by [ryuuri](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryuuri/pseuds/ryuuri)




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